Deafened By The Silence
by TheBeaOf
Summary: After being beaten to a pulp outside of his public high school, Blaine Anderson is rushed to the hospital. He expects to be alone and, because of that, never thought he would have company as his wounds, both physical and emotional, healed.


Blaine had always wondered what it was like to ride in ambulance. To speed through the cars and to have the right-of-way when the red lights on the top of the vehicle were flashing. Sometimes, he imagined he himself driving the ambulance, breaking all of the speeding laws in Ohio to get to somebody in need. What he didn't imagine was being in the back of the speeding vehicle as the paramedics rushed to save his life. However, that was exactly what was happening now. It was his freshman year of high school and he had just come out of the closet. He had mustered up the courage to ask a boy out and they had attended the dance together. While they were waiting, they had both been ambushed by three football players and the rest was history. Blaine was slipping in and out of consciousness as the paramedics cleaned up his wounds as best they could.

"Hold on, son. We're almost at the hospital." One of them said, and Blaine wondered why he was speaking at such a low volume. He then realized it was _him_. It wasn't the paramedic. In fact, the older man was speaking at normal volume. He had just sounded unnaturally quiet because Blaine was so weak. He couldn't open his mouth to reply, so he gave a little nod. This caused the female paramedic to run her hand through his dark curls gently. The action was soothing and Blaine opened his mouth to speak, but he was shushed at once. Just as he felt the ambulance slowing down, he gave in and slipped into oblivion. He went out onto the stratosphere, completely oblivious as to what was going on around him.

* * *

Blaine woke up in a room all alone. However, he was connected to various machines through IVs and on his wrist, he sported a hospital bracelet. He was unsure of how long it had been since he had been rescued, but he was thankful to those paramedics. Slowly, he raised one of his arms and saw the bruises from the beating. He swallowed and looked at the other one, which was identical to its counterpart. He could feel tape all around his middle and then he felt the oxygen mask around his mouth. In short, Blaine Anderson was lucky to be alive. Albeit, he was in terrible condition, but he knew he could be worse. He could be dead. That thought reminded him of his date to the dance, Paul King. He wondered how the boy had fared, having not seen him in the ambulance. He hoped he was okay, though both of their beatings had been extreme. Weakly, his eyes searched the room, but he saw it was empty. Of course his parents weren't there. The hospital had probably called them, but they wouldn't make the effort to take a trip to see him. They were just too busy, and they didn't care. The broken teenage boy felt his eyes wet with tears and he allowed them to slide down. There wasn't anything he could do about them. It hurt too much to lift his arms, and so the tears left runnels down his cheeks. He breathed in as much artificial oxygen from the machine next to his bed so he wouldn't choke on real air. However, this was just as difficult as lifting his arms. He leaned back and tried to calm himself down, so the pain would go away. Now would have been an excellent time to be comforted by a parent, but he didn't have any. He didn't have anyone. Just himself in this room with the machines for company. The machines couldn't offer him comfort, though. They just monitored his breathing, his pulse, and his heart rate. That was all.

"How are you doing, Blaine?" The voice startled him and Blaine flinched before he winced in pain. "Sorry, I shouldn't have spoken out of the blue like that. My name's Doctor McCarthy, and I've been monitoring you here in the ICU. You really took a beating a few days ago, Blaine. Can you tell me how much you remember of that?" The question prompted Blaine to reflect on the worst night of his life. The memories were too fresh, too raw, and he was ready to cry again. "Okay, never mind. How about some good news? You've been progressing very well since we brought you in about four days ago. I think we can switch you to a breathing tube soon, but we want to let your lungs heal fully before we do that. We don't want to put too much strain on them. Are you comfortable with hearing your injuries?"

"No." Blaine croaked. "No thank you."

"Okay, I can understand that. We've tried to get in contact with your parents a few times, but they haven't come in. However, we've made sure you're comfortable here. Do you have any questions for me?" Blaine watched as the doctor walked forwards slowly, carefully as if Blaine was a scared puppy.

"No, I'm okay." The doctor nodded in response and placed a clipboard on the end table.

"If you need anything, Blaine, just press that button." He motioned to a button that was conveniently placed near Blaine's left arm, so he wouldn't have to move it much to press it.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. See you around, son." The simplicity of that conversation also pained Blaine. There had been no mention of his being gay, that he deserved to be beaten in such a vicious way. Doctor McCarthy had just offered him comfort and support since he was parentless. In fact, he was completely alone. His brother, Cooper Anderson, was 3,000 miles away in Hollywood and Doctor McCarthy had made no mention of the commercial actor. Blaine tried to sigh, but that hurt too much. He wondered how long this would be, laying in a hospital bed with machines working to keep him alive and stable. He doubted his heart would suddenly stop and, thus, kill him, but he still prayed it wouldn't. He just wanted this to be over. He wanted to be in his own bed, not here and all alone. He bit his lip before he reached for the button and pressed it. Immediately, a nurse was in his room.

"Yes, sir. What can I get you?" She asked, her tone indicating that she was flustered.

"Can you turn on the TV for me?" At such a simple question, she deflated.

"Oh, sure. Sorry if I came off in any rude way, it's just been a long day." She reached for the remote on the other end table and clicked it on. "Anything in particular? Sports? The news?"

"Can you put on Cartoon Network?" Blaine asked. Sports would remind him of his father and the news would remind him of his mother, both who had abandoned him when he needed them the most. Cartoons were a safe zone, even if they did remind him of Cooper.

"Sure, hopefully there's something you like. If not, we can find something else." She pressed two of the numbers and the screen switched to Cartoon Network. An episode of 'Scooby Doo' was playing.

"This is okay, thank you." Blaine smiled at her and she returned it. She returned the remote to the end table and trotted out of the room. The brunette settled against the pillows and watched the show.

* * *

He had fallen asleep again and someone had turned off the television as he spent time in his own little world. He woke up for a few seconds, scanned the room, and forced himself to go back to sleep. His room was still void of other people, and he didn't want to spend his time talking to the walls. He spent the next few hours on his sixth day in the hospital sleeping, dreaming of a better place and a better time. He had found himself a partner who was beautiful, inside and out. In his dream, his partner had chestnut, wavy hair and an innate sense of style. The boy's eyes were a bluish grey and his skin was pale and clear, almost like porcelain but better. The boy looked familiar, but in consciousness and out of it, Blaine couldn't place where he had seen him. So, he was left with dreams of the boy who helped him escape from the real world for a little while. It made getting by a little bit easier.

* * *

At around 3 A.M. on the seventh day, Blaine was roused from his sleep due to shouting. This hadn't been a regular occurrence in the ICU, and he simply discarded it. He was just about to go back to dreaming when he registered the voice.

"He's my brother, and I need to see him!"

"Sir, I'm sorry, but it's 3:00 in the morning..."

"Do you not know who I am?"

"Um, no... I apologize, but..."

"My name is Cooper Anderson and I'm in the Free Credit Ratings commercials. Now do you remember?" There was a brief moment of silence.

"Oh, I apologize, Mr. Anderson. Who was it you were looking for?"

"Blaine Anderson." The tone of the conversation had changed dramatically. Nobody wanted to anger big-shot Hollywood actor Cooper Anderson.

"He's in Room 617, you may go in." The nurse said, maintaining her calm tone.

"Thank you, and follow me on Twitter. CooperAnderson, and like me on Facebook too!" Cooper said as he walked off. Blaine watched as his brother came into view, looking very disheveled. His hair was all over the place, dark rings were under his eyes, and his clothes were wrinkled.

"Blaine." Cooper said, his tone switching to gentle.

"Hey, Coop." Blaine forced himself to smile, which didn't hurt as much anymore.

"How are you, squirt?" Cooper asked as he pulled a chair near the bed and sunk into it.

"Good, I'm on the mend. The doctors are surprised at my progress." Blaine smiled slightly.

"Hey, you get that from me. We don't let anything get us down." Cooper reached forward to take one of Blaine's hands into his own. "Sorry I didn't get here earlier, Blainey. I was caught up with this commercial and then they let me off to visit because I kept snapping at them. I took the first flight out of LAX and forgot about the time difference. My bad." Cooper smiled guiltily, which caused Blaine to laugh.

"Thanks for visiting me, Coop. How are you?"

"I'm good, been worried sick about you. You probably heard me arguing with that hot nurse out there." Cooper pointed behind him to the nurse, who was pointedly busying herself with papers on her desk.

"Yeah, you woke me up."

"Sorry, bud, but I had to see you. I know _they_ haven't come to see you at all."

"Nope, it's only been me."

"Damn, sorry. I really wish I could've been here soon." Cooper hung his head, as Blaine tended to do whenever he was embarrassed.

"Don't beat yourself up, Coop." Blaine snorted at the irony of that sentence.

"It's not funny, Blaine. If I had been there to pick you up, if I had chaperoned the frickin' dance, this wouldn't have happened. I would have been there to protect you."

"Coop, it's fine, really. I'm just glad you're here now. I can't change anything about the past." There was a pause in which Cooper pressed his lips together, a sure sign he was thinking.

"How bad are they?" Blaine didn't need to ask what Cooper meant by this.

"They hurt a lot when I first woke up, but they're better. I also had a oxygen mask for a bit." Cooper swore under his breath. "Coop, it's fine."

"No, Blaine, it's not. Do you not see where you are? They put you in here. They've caused you suffering and I want to ring their scrawny necks." Cooper practically snarled, squeezing Blaine's hand slightly. The older Anderson then stood up and peered at the blankets that covered Blaine's chest. "Can I see?"

"Sure." Blaine watched as his brother composed himself before he lifted away the blankets. There were circles stuck to Blaine's chest, monitoring his heart, and beneath the hospital gown were the bandages. Cooper exhaled at the extent of them, how much there were, how layered they were.

"How long until your ribs are healed?"

"Still a while, about 3 - 6 weeks."

"Shit..."

"Cooper."

"And your arms?" Cooper's eyes switched to Blaine's faintly bruised arms. "What about your legs or anything?"

"My arms are almost as good as new, and my legs are getting there. They won't need to amputate and I had a black eye for a while there." At the mention of this new injury, Cooper's eyes snapped to Blaine's eyes. It was true, the area around the left eye was the black and blue and Cooper shook his head.

"How could anyone do this?"

"You know why, Coop."

"I know, but why? What the hell could you have ever done that prompted them to beat the living crap out of you?"

"I existed, Coop. They don't like people like me." Blaine said. Cooper practically growled and stood up, his blue eyes meeting Blaine's matching ones.

"If I ever find them, B..." He threatened.

"I know, but just wait, Coop. I'm sure the police are looking for them, if they haven't found them already. I - I just need you here with me."

"I'm here, Blaine. I'm not going anywhere." As if to prove his point, Cooper sat back in the chair and leaned back. There was a moment in which both brothers stared at each other.

"What?" Blaine asked.

"I think you should transfer. You can't go back there, Blaine. Who knows what they'll do to you if they find out they didn't finish you off."

"Where am I gonna go, Coop?" Blaine allowed his fear to show in his tone.

"I'm going to work on finding a school that's right for you. I'm sure there's one for you, even if it's out of state. Hey, maybe you could even come to a performing arts school in SoCal, eh?" Cooper grinned at the idea, and Blaine chuckled.

"That sounds nice, Coop. I know I'd have you there to beat up any bullies."

"Oh, you can bet on it."

"Thanks, Coop, for coming here. You're the best big brother ever."

"And I shall not forget it. Do you want to go to sleep?"

"Kind of. Will you be there when I wake up?"

"Of course. Unless I'm down in the cafeteria or flirting with my gf over there." Cooper grinned for a moment. "I love you, B."

"I love you too, Coop. Good night."

"Good night."

"Wait..."

"Yeah?" The answer came almost immediately.

"Can you... ?"

"Of course." Cooper sat up and, as gingerly as he could, moved Blaine to the side as he climbed into the bed. This was something they had always done when Blaine was little, when he was scared or hurt. Blaine was still young, of course, and he knew his older brother would be at his beck and call. There would come a time when he could use that to his advantage, when he would be much more healed than he was now. However, for the moment, he rested against his brother, who held him comfortingly. His eyes closed and, in a week, he had never felt so safe.


End file.
